


Damage Point

by AzcaSky



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Blood, Injury, M/M, Violence, caring bf!geonhak, cya/leedo, estabilished relationship - Freeform, fighter!cya, the tag is for violence, there is no smut in this fic, underground fight au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzcaSky/pseuds/AzcaSky
Summary: In this filthy underground filled with stench of piss and sweat and blood, Kiwook only cares about the rush of a hit.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Giwook | Cya
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Damage Point

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Cya's soundcloud track, [Alchemy](https://soundcloud.com/latecya/prod-cya-feat-pause4life).  
> Special thank you for a special beta reader, [SunriseSeaMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseSeaMonster/pseuds/SunriseSeaMonster)!!

He spits out blood, and the crowd cheers.

In this filthy underground illegal match, they get excited the more they notice the stagger in his stance.

He smirks, uncaring.

His leopard print knuckle glove is painted red, a sign that he definitely gives as much as he receives, if not more. He might have been smaller, _newer_ , and in an official match they would surely belong in different class, but here, in a place where law doesn't exist, the only rule is to not die on the ring. He feels sweat—or maybe blood, he can no longer tell, at this point—trickling down his forehead, staining his pretty patterned faux fur cardigan.

He knows he will win.

Because he can see his opponent standing slanted, favoring his right leg. There's a bit of hesitation in the way he raises his left arm, a sure sign of a dislocated shoulder. And, more importantly, his eyes have lost their composure.

The audience might not be able to tell, but he knows, all the fighters know, the difference in the eyes, of whether they will achieve a victory or succumb to defeat. Even watching from the exclusive seat cannot guarantee this instinct, something that can only be felt once you have exchanged blow, felt the exhilaration and pain and absolute madness of fighting another person, hurting them to unimaginable damage and then come up winner.

 _Give up,_ he mouths, taunting, with his cheekiest smirk.

His opponent grits his teeth, refusing, and he wants to laugh, because once the countdown from the referee reaches zero, it will be over.

_3..._

He does laugh, then, loudly and obnoxiously, throwing his head up. His fists ball up in a stance he knows so well.

_2..._

He looks at his opponent, and finally, for the first time since the beginning of the match fifteen minutes ago, he sees it, hears it, _smells_ it.

_1..._

Fear.

_0!!_

Kiwook leaps, not sparing time even for the referee to step out of the way. He strikes first, fist high in the air, legs propelling in a jump, adding momentum to his punch. He lands it clean on the damaged shoulder, and his opponent retaliates by throwing a right hand jab, socking Kiwook in the ear.

Kiwook, thrown off balance from the jump, tumbles aside, along with sound of something clattering. Kiwook glances, and finds his pick earring, lying motionless with splatter of red. His ear is ringing from the impact, so loud it's almost deafening. His earlobe is torn, dripping blood. He doesn't pay attention to any of it. The damage has been done.

His opponent's shoulder falls apart by that blow, undoubtedly crushed beyond repair. He screams, wails, kneels while cradling his injured shoulder, shouting surrender and medic over and over.

Kiwook laughs as a team of white clothed people surges to the ring. He retrieves his earring, and raises it above his head, in time for the referee to announce,

"The winner of this match is... CYA!!"

He relishes in the sound of the crowd cheering, jeering, shouting, yelling at him, in every tone between disappointment and excitement.

Lee Kiwook, better known as Cya, the youngest fighter that ever wins ten times in a row in the entire stage of this lawless match.

He steps closer to his opponent, allegedly a crowd favorite, but he already sees him now, already tastes how his flesh feels on the other side of his fist. His opponent is not more than a regular brute, all brawn and no brain, and apparently also no resolve. Kiwook doesn't even remember his name. The white medic team parts as he approaches, allowing him a word to the loser, a winner’s privilege. Kiwook smiles, the sight of glory never fails to make him heady.

Kiwook leans close to his face, distorted with blood and bruise, smeared with disgust and discomfort, and, to Kiwook's delight, blotched with traces of fear.

"Good game, buddy," He raises his hand and his opponent flinches, but he only taps his right shoulder twice, and then walks away.

-

"Dramatic, as always,"

Kiwook laughs again, still giddy. He's stripped to only his deep blue boxer, perching on the edge of their bathtub. His clothes, his knuckle-glove, his earring, his headband, are all piled up inside the bathtub, slowly coloring the water red and grey.

Geonhak is kneeling in front of him with a swab of antiseptic in his hand, patching him up.

"At least you're not as badly injured as usual." Geonhak says as he carefully peels the grime off of Kiwook's upper arm, swabbing peroxide when it persists. Kiwook hisses and flinches, but Geonhak holds him in place, not deterred. “Your earlobe is the only thing I can’t fix. It’s too small for me to stitch.”

Kiwook ignores it. To him, pain and wounds on his body aren’t important. "This one is easy, hyung, it's almost like a child's play."

Geonhak chuckles along, "I can see. He was such a wimp, honestly. I wonder how he maintained his position at all." He finishes bandaging the seared skin, then puts away the assortment of cotton swab, bandages, antiseptic, and salve. For a while, Kiwook just watches as Geonhak fusses over their meager medicine box, cataloging their stock.

"Hyung," Kiwook calls, and Geonhak hums, raising his head. "Kiss me."

Geonhak smiles and complies, easy.

Kiwook knows his mouth tastes only of blood and grime and sweat, but Geonhak's tastes like strawberry smoothie, and despite the gentleness in which Geonhak is kissing him, Kiwook can't help but leans deeper, wanting more. He grips the bathtub with the same intensity he balls his fist just an hour earlier, desperately trying to channel his leftover bloodthirst to anything other than the man kissing him.

But Geonhak pulls away, and Kiwook is lost.

Geonhak looks at his eyes, then grabs both of his hand, putting them on his hips. His smile is completely soft when he cups Kiwook's face, featherlight touch covering bruises and cuts, to which Kiwook naturally leans in.

"Don't hold back, Kiwook-ah." Geonhak says, "It's okay."

So Kiwook doesn't.

He kisses Geonhak with as much fervor as he had on the ring, presses his hands to Geonhak hips as hard as if he wants to grab an opponent, unloading every bit of his ferocity until it turns into desperation for desire and lust. And even then, Geonhak still whispers to him, "It's okay, Kiwook, let go."

Because only Geonhak would give him as much joy as a fight to the death, only Geonhak would be able to take his raw power without so much as flinching, only Geonhak would look at him with gentleness and affection instead of fear. Because Kiwook knows he's a hard one to love, always looking for excitement and destruction, always collecting gashes and bruises. But Geonhak is here, patching him up, holding him close, kissing him.

Kiwook pants when they pull away.

He looks at Geonhak, then, at the love overflowing from his gaze, and can't hold on the urge to wrap him in a tight embrace, wanting every bit of them to touch and melt in each other.

"Geonhak-hyung," He says, seconds away before tearing Geonhak's shirt, "You’re the best."

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I enjoy this pairing more than I thought. Thank you for reading!  
> Please talk to me about cya/leedo on [twitter](https://twitter.com/azcasky) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/Azca_Sky) !!
> 
> Happy birthday Geonhak!!
> 
> I made art for this! Check [this](https://twitter.com/azcasky/status/1290251417966358529?s=19) out!


End file.
